


Many A Mile To Go That Night

by orphan_account



Series: Foxverse [1]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Alternate universe: faeries, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-15
Updated: 2012-03-15
Packaged: 2017-11-01 23:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/362527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin is one of the fox fae.  One day while in fox form, he runs across a hunt and has to run for his life.  As it happens, he runs into the home of everyone's favorite co-pilot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Many A Mile To Go That Night

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the CP prompt meme and cleaned up and shoved over here because the idea of this AU makes me smile.

Flying and running are not the same thing. There is nothing like knowing you are soaring through the air and there is nothing like moving, your legs pumping hard as you tear through the world, going as fast as you can.

But one thing they do have in common, one thing Martin treasures about them, is that they both make him feel utterly alive.

He never fit in, never settled anywhere. He was a drifter, even as a child. His family moved, traveled because of what they were, the Foxes, the kitsune, the faeries with the pointed fox ears and three tails. Oh sure, they know glamors, Martin was taught how to hide his tails and ears from such a young age, he doesn't remember ever not knowing, but still, they moved.

And then everyone grew up. He, Simon and Caitlin grew into the people they are now, his brother and sister a pair of tricksters, con artists that traveled the world together, and him. He never sure what he grew up into.

Well no, he grew into a pilot, a flying fox, a creature that was meant to have wings and never did. It could be worse though, at least he has MJN, at least he has some form of flight in his life.

But sometimes, every now and again, he doesn't need flying. he needs running, he needs the feel of his full fox form racing through the woods of Fitton, he needs to feel the wind rushing past him and feel what it's like to jump and dance and move.

Which is what brought him to his current situation.

He runs and runs, not for the joy of it, for the release and the pleasure, but for fear. He runs because, if he doesn't run, he'll likely die. The hounds are on him, he knows that, he can sense that they smell him and it's all he can do to keep his legs moving. A part of him thinks about changing back but he's so frightened, he's not sure he can manage the shift back _and_ a glamor at the same time.

So he runs.

He scrambles through the woods, weaving his way through trees and bushes and anywhere he can find. He's looking for water, for something he can use to get them off his trail but nothing presents itself. There aren't even low hanging branches for him to try and make his way to.

He's never felt doomed before, not really. He's felt worthless and useless and miserable but never doomed.

Martin waits for his life to flash before his eyes, waits for the world to start crumbling apart, for the pain to crash through and destroy his thoughts and so many other things but none of this happens.

He tries to tell himself none of it will as long as he keeps running but he knows his luck, he knows that he can only hold out for so long before he hits something that is going to trip him up.

But then there it is, a fence with a hole in it, a fence and a private property sign. A fence and something that looked like salvation.

He throws himself forward and through the hole, not even pausing to look back as he does so. He just keeps running, moving as quickly as he can until he realizes he's no longer in the woods at all but someone's back yard.

he doesn't know if it's safe, doesn't know if the person living here has anything against foxes but he doesn't care. Martin lets himself crumple to the ground, breathing hard and shaking a little from the exertion that he put forth.

He doesn't notice the glass door slide open, nor does he here the low and curious 'Hm," that comes from the owner of the house.

He only registers that someone else has joined him when they've come and gone, returning with a few scraps of meat and a water dish.

He looks up slowly, his eyes widening as realization and utter confusion dawn on him.

Douglas.

He's not sure what to make of this, not sure if he should be grateful or embarrassed or what. It's not as if Douglas knows who he is, not as if he can tell, but he can't help but feel embarrassed all the same.

Moving carefully, he pads forward, nibbling at the meat before going for the water, lapping at it eagerly before flopping onto his side again.

Douglas doesn't reach out to him, he's too smart to think that reaching out to a (supposedly) wild animal is a good idea but he does settle in one of the chairs outside and continues to watch him.

Martin picks at the food,, though his attention is mostly on the water. After all the distractions are done though, he finds that he can't keep his eyes off the other man. He'd never expected this, never thought Douglas to be the kind of man who would be kind to things that are normally hunted. it throws him off a little and leaves him staring.

He sits, his tail swishing a little as he watches him, eyes no longer quite so wide but still curious, still barely blinking.

"You are an interesting one," Douglas, says, his tone not unkind. "Not many like you around these days."

His heart starts pounding immediately. Douglas knows, he can tell what's going on. He's aware of who he is, of _what_ he is.

"The fox went out on a chilly night," Douglas starts, his eyes never off Martin as he sings. "He prayed for the moon to give him light..."

Martin doesn't move, barely breaths as the other goes through about half the song, his tone almost intimate. it's as if he was the only one meant to hear it, only him and Martin and that makes Martin's tail twitch, a mixture of confusion and comfort rushing through him.

They sit like that for a long time. Martin watching Douglas and Douglas luring him closer and closer with fox themed songs that he seems to sing just for him.

Martin doesn't realize that he's at Douglas' feet until he feels a hand, brush the back of his head.

"Who are you then," Douglas mutters. "Come on, show us your face."

Martin tenses, his fur rising up and he can feel panic rise up in him again. He turns, moving quickly and runs. No longer does he move for the joy of doing so, running for the love of it, but instead he moves out of fear all over again.

He runs past Douglas' home and out into the street, not stopping until he reaches the back of his own house where he can slip back into his other form and get inside.


End file.
